Summer Wind
by riarlies
Summary: "Or we could see a movie?" - riley/charlie


**_So, if you're reading this, you probably hated Texas! Good for you! You notice inconsistent plots, OOC characters, and cluttered/rushed/pointless episodes that will most likely contribute to a shitty shift in the show's general direction. Instead of lamenting for too long, I've been working on this for about a month, and now it seems very timely that I finish and publish it._**

 ** _Riarlie's first date! At least, how it should've gone. This takes place in a world where they went to Texas about two months before graduation. There, Lucas and Maya found each other, and Riley was able to find her own comfort and face moving on. Everything worked out well (there was no part 3.) Riley hasn't really seen Charlie much around, at least it's probably the same it was between 10 months and Semi-formal. There was no awkward push, no tension, and no lies. This is practically the first time they've seen each other since graduation._**

* * *

Everyone had assumed that this was just another night that Charlie and Riley were spending together. Ever since Maya and Lucas began their relationship after graduation, Riley had been trying to hide her change in comfort. Yes, she unconditionally supported Maya and Lucas' relationship - and even teamed up with Zay to push Lucas to make the Big Move - but a part of her still felt uneasy. It was only natural. To see her best friend and her first crush dating wasn't unsettling, but different; and change comes with "different." Maya and Lucas both promised her that it wouldn't be awkward and that things wouldn't change too much - because anyone on the Riley Committee knows that Riley strays from change -, but Riley insisted that they spend time together the same way any couple would. Even if there was a small heaviness in her heart, she knew deep down that she had no right to take their happiness away for her own. They were Lucas and Maya, and she loved that. Nevertheless, even though Maya still crawled through the Bay Window at least every other day, Riley knew that Maya would be spending a bit more time with Lucas than usual. And on her lonely Sundays, the lanky brunette would wear her favorite summer dresses, Topanga's sunhat that casted an Audrey-Hepburn-esque shadow across her face, and voyage off into the village, immersing herself in a culture she could call her own. There, she found herself at art festivals she never heard of, music festivals she danced alone to, and shops alongside brick-city streets that engaged her beautiful sense of curiosity. Her favorite, of course, was the bookshop tucked in a brick-city-alleyway, filled with books that cast shadows of their own stories.

One lovely Sunday, she found herself fascinated in the stories hidden behind mysterious manilla envelopes; some were titled by date, and some by war. A shit load of pre-during-post-war love letters sent to and from soldiers and their lovers. The shop was oddly more than books; it held boxes and shelves and stacks full of unorganized, but beautiful, chaos - stories full of passion. And even though it was sunny, it was too hot for her to venture off into a thousand shops like she usually tried to do. Besides, the old man who ran the counter was nice, and she liked listening to each one of his stories behind his only-slightly-unsettling sleeve of tattoos. But today, she digressed; she wanted to get lost in the stories until her phone rang for her to go home.

"Alright, Gramps. I scavenged Grams' old retirement home, but I don't think they're quite ready to give up anything," Riley heard a sweet, young voice echo with energy from behind the bookshelf she found herself perched behind. There was a sense of familiarity, but she couldn't quite place it just yet.

"Damn, you'd think they'd throw me a bone over here since all those old folk are doin's just losing their sight," The old man boomed in disappointment, followed by a quick wheeze. "Pick up the pace, Charlie."

 _There it was._

"Well, we got a new load, so can you just organize them in the back for me?"

 _Dear God._ Riley thought as she heard footsteps creep up closer. Charlie Gardner, the poor boy at locker 49 with the sweet, crooked little smile who oddly never gave up on her after she took his heart and unknowingly held it in the palm of her hand like a little bird; yes, that same Charlie who accepted her rejection, but still asked how she was doing at least once a week when they'd see each other at their lockers. Admittedly, after semi-formal, she was too embarrassed to speak to Charlie. As insistent as he was that she didn't have to apologize, she still felt guilty, especially now that Lucas and Maya were dating. He wanted to make her feel special, but change was too scary of a thought for her to accept at that time. Even while having lockers next to each other, she would try to hide in another room till she watched him walk away. Something about him and what happened months earlier made her feel like she'd only hurt him - and herself - by acting like everything was fine; even if that's what he said he wanted.

In a Bond-like effort to hide behind another bookshelf until she fell through the seams of shadows, she heard footsteps coming from the right, and turned left. Picking herself off the floor as quickly as possible, she didn't even try to keep her balance; immediately, she clashed into a pile of books as she turned the corner and fell to the ground. A pile of novels and journals and magazines and essays followed her fall as she heard a grunt come from across her. Slowly picking her head up, she realized that all that surrounded her was a shitload of dusty books that carried that genuine smell she fell in love with, and then someone sprawled on the ground; Charlie Gardner.

Riley pretended to still be on the ground. Rationally, she thought, _Maybe if I pretend to be dead and angle my hat so that he can't see my eyes, he'll just walk right on by. Yeah! Like I'm sleeping or something!_ Foolish.

"Oh God," she heard him mumble as book cover after book cover was stacked and slammed onto one another. Then, as quickly as he began, he stopped.

"Riley?" Charlie's voice echoed into her ears as she felt too paralyzed to move. He always said her name the same way - hopefully, gradually, and caringly. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, but before she could say anything, he reached down to help her sit up. One hand caressed her back as the other held her own. He helped her leaned against a bookcase as he lowered down next to her. "I can't believe - I mean, I'm so sorry. If I had known you were here I would've been more careful."

Smiling at him uncomfortably, she softly began to speak, "Charlie, hi." Her voice was trailing off as her eyes failed to meet his for more than half a second. "Don't worry about it. I was actually just about to leave," she looked up from her hands, and saw the quick change in his face from a happy soul to the kind of disappointment that feels painful.

"No-no, you don't have to leave, I was actually just dropping by," Charlie looked down and around while still holding her together. "This is actually my grandfather's store - or well, it was my grandmother's, but when she, well, passed, he took it on for her since he was in retirement," Charlie laughed nervously - something Riley always found endearing. "Anyways, I just help him find books to sell in the summertime. Believe it or not, this place can get kind of empty."

"That explains why this place is called "Gardner's" then," Riley laughed with him for a second - not uncomfortably, but trite enough to point out that there was some unspoken tautness between them. "I don't want to be a bother, though. You know - to you and your grandfather."

Charlie shook his head immediately in response, "Oh, God - don't worry at all. My grandfather likes silent company." He motioned to the mess on the ground next to them, "I, on the other hand, should probably get going. Nothing better than silent reading alone, right?" He smirked as he lifted himself off the ground, beginning to pick up the books in one hand, waving goodbye with the other - his eyes never leaving hers. Even when he was about to leave her for the day - or the week, or the summer - he still had that damn look in his eyes. If there was one truth about Charlie, it would be that his eyes hold the most beautiful sense of ingenuous hope and love. Their hazel glisten was natural by the constantly crooked smile on his eyes. Whether she knew it or not, it reminded her that there was nothing to give up on - 10 months, two years, a lifetime - she knew Charlie didn't give up on the world.

And whether in be because of that or if the last two months have just dragged her across the ground, in a rash decision induced by ridiculous loneliness, as well as a sense of comfort around him for the first time in months, Riley shook her head and reached for his hand from where she was sitting to stop him. He didn't move an inch, only looked down to her and raised his eyebrows. As confused as he was, she noticed the slight blush that fell under his eyes. "Hey," Riley laughed as she sighed to release all her tension. Something in her voice was frantic, but not in the bad way. "Why don't -" _deep breath "_ Why don't you and I walk around the village. I've been here a couple times already this summer, but maybe you know something I don't. Since you're more familiar with your grandfather and all," she felt the heat in her body rise to her face as she spoke. In the back of her mind, she didn't even expect him to say yes because she was overly connected to the idea that he just didn't want to see her.

He smiled to himself and looked down as if he was considering the proposal. "I gotta put these books away, Riley." She felt a crushing disappointment slam into her like a Mac truck. Before she could turn away and apologize for the offer, though, Charlie started up again. "So, why don't you give me a half an hour, and we'll go check out this nice cafe tucked in between the arts and music cut for lunch or something, okay? I'm sure you have a thousand stories to tell me if you've said anything to my grandfather." He laughed to her as Riley nodded in some slight sense of shock, completely still. The two stared at each other silently, both smiling and gazing, but Charlie quickly turned away and started off with his nervous stutter again. "Well, if we - if we wanna make it - you know - on time - or whatever - I should put these books away." And he fell behind the shadows on the book shelf immediately. And as he disappeared to an enigma of organization in the store, Riley gathered herself. Leaning against the bookshelf, confused at what had just happened, something inside of her felt ready to try something new - or different - whatever the Hell she pleased.

Contrary to what they both expected, the cafe wasn't awkward, or uncomfortable, or a mistake. There wasn't any tension, there wasn't any uneasiness, and there wasn't any feeling-talk, but her favorite part was that he didn't bring up her friends. He didn't ask how they were doing. He didn't ask her what was going on. He focused on her, on him, on random things they didn't know they had in common, which felt relatively new and needed. He listened while she talked, she listened while he talked. Soon enough, he stopped stuttering and a suave wave of words washed over him. Then, in the middle of his story about how his grandfather has a secret tattoo inspired by him, Riley's phone rang. Topanga called - four hours had passed, together, in a small cafe, and she had to be home for dinner. She gave Charlie a tight hug and made him promise her that he would finish the story to her eventually.

That one Sunday was the beginning of many beautiful days together - plantonically, of course. The next weekend, they found each other once again in his grandfather's store. He sat with her and finished his stories. The Sunday after that, they decided to try and actually walk around the festival for activities. Soon enough, Sundays became annual, and by July, Tuesday nights were a thing among the two - they'd meet up after dinner, walk down to The Ice Cream Fountain, and talk about anything under the sun. Riley talked about how she loved the stars while Charlie saw them in her eyes.

In a weird, unspoken agreement, they mutually decided not to tell anyone that they were going out as often as they actually were. Sure, Riley told Maya about the occasional day they spent together, and Maya listened with suggestive intrigue; Riley immediately shot down the idea of anything happening between them. She wanted Maya to enjoy her time with Lucas; it wasn't the time for her to worry about anything happening in her own life. Besides, something about their time together and the intimate privacy they shared made her question if she wanted to involve everyone else just yet.

Whatever they had together was nice. There was no pressure at the beginning - they would just send each other a text to make sure that their plans were still final every Sunday and Tuesday. Nothing was planned - just the day and the people. But as time went on and they both found out more about each other, the process of getting lost in each other's eyes created a slight but enjoyable awkwardness. Undeniably so, there was something between them, and she couldn't ignore that for much longer, and apparently, he couldn't either.

While walking home one night, he stopped walking and was silent. She waited for him to talk, but he just looked at her with the most sincere face before he said anything. She knew he was trying to say something, but then again, he also looked like he was about to have a stroke.

"Look," he began quietly as an unspoken anxiety filled her. This is the same way everyone else breaks news to her ' _Look, Riley' 'Listen, Honey' 'C'mon, Sweetie_ '. If this was their last Tuesday he wanted to spend together, she wished she had gotten something that would've taken her longer to eat so that she could have more time with him at least. "Riley, I really like you - I really, really like you. I didn't think it was possible to like you anymore than I had at semi-formal, but these past few weeks, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. You're so much more to me than the beautiful friend by my locker." He stopped again. Riley's anxiety only increased, ' _Is this kid in love with me? Did I miss something? Do I know what love is? Oh, God, please don't say you love me._ ' (Riley has _clearly_ watched too many rom-coms for a high school freshman.) Charlie kept staring into her eyes and shrugged like it was his last effort at anything, "I just wanna take you out - I want to take you out to eat, and I want to dress up for you, and I want to have the idea behind the fiasco to be endearing," he was losing track, so before he continued, he took a deep breath and invaded the space between the two with his crooked smile, "I want to take you out on a date."

And that's how she ended up where she was now. _A date_ , And if she knew anything about Charlie Gardner, she knew that this would be no subway ride. So, she borrowed Maya's red dress that Shawn got for her - Maya wouldn't hand it over until she figured out "What, but more importantly, who, the Hell she needed it for." Easily, Riley told a small lie and said that she and Charlie were attending a gala for his father - Daniel Gardner (big politician) - and Maya, suspiciously, gave it to her. At the end of it all, only Topanga knew what she was up to for a list of reasons: First of all, she didn't know Cory's opinion of Charlie, so it was safe just to assume that what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Secondly, Topanga knew something was up with Charlie the second the answer to " _Who are you hanging out with this weekend?_ " changed from " _Not really sure yet_ " to " _Charlie and I have plans._ " Topanga was excited for her daughter; every time Riley would begin to open up about him, she'd get too flustered to form coherent sentences and her eyes would light up like Christmas lights. Thirdly, Topanga was the only one who could manage to take the time to handle Riley's hair.

Topanga tied her daughter's hair into a tight pony tail, curling the ends of it to give it fair volume in the summer heat. When she was finished, she turned Riley around - she noticed a comfortable anxiety warming in her eyes. She was quieter than she was used to, but she took it as a good sign.

"You'll be fine, okay?" Topanga interrupted their silence. "Charlie's a great kid. You know, you really haven't said much," Topanga's offer of solace evidently wasn't really any help. Riley could only nod silently. She didn't want her mom getting too involved. Her parents knew everything when it came to Lucas because Riley was convinced she was flinging herself into a fairytale. Everyone saw how that turned out. But tonight - cool and collected was all that mattered. Cool and collected.

The bell buzzed.

Immediately, Riley jumped slightly as she could hear her heartbeat in her chest. Every anxiety that she just slept off started filling her - but why? Technically, if a date is just two people together, this would be their 20th. But he asked for a date, and teen colloquialisms and teen angst tend to go hand in hand. Topanga looked at her, wanting to calm her down with a single and short hug, but it was no use. Riley's mind was on her own, the only thing that could calm her down was just throwing herself in front of a reality she was about to walk into. As her mother let him in, Riley counted the seconds between her and him - 30 to get up the elevator, 10 to walk down the hallway, 15 to get to / answer the door. Topanga walked slowly back into the doorway of her room. "He's here."

She answered the door almost speechlessly. Charlie Gardner. Cursed with the persona and charm that bit you like a bitch. An almost inaudible 'hello' fell from her mouth as an innate smile fell on her face. Before she could fall too deeply in his eyes, she pered up - there's only so many hours in the night. "I'll be home by eleven!"

* * *

The afternoon of the date, Charlie had another seasonal load to hand off to his grandfather. Old newspapers, mainly, useless and ripped with historically inaccurate redneck-protocol, but he knew his grandfather would take whatever he could get. As he dropped the box in the back of the MISC. Section and tried to rush out of the door, his grandfather stopped him.

"What's all the rush for? And where's that Riley? She's usually waiting outside while you drop off the books and whatnot," he shook his head a bit while raising his eyebrows. He was a little too invested in his grandson's life - being the only son and all, the old man took a pride in the fact that Charlie was doing well. Then, as if he was having a stroke, the old man gasped, "Wait a minute - don't tell me you're finally taking that little beaut out on a date, huh, Charles?" He anticipated the silence and Charlie's blush that he could always count on. With a wheeze of a laugh in excitement, he raised his arms in glee. "GOOD JOB, _BOY_!" Charlie cringed as his grandfather's brisk hand slammed into his back - endearingly. "I knew you had a thing for her the second you tackled her with all my good books."

"Gramp, I didn't tackle her - we ran into each other," Charlie voice raised annoyed and embarrassed. "Look, I gotta get ready - I'm taking her to that drive in theater in Bryant Park. We - or she and I, I mean - have a thing for classics. Guys and Dolls tonight."

By four o'clock with three hours to spare, Charlie was fully dressed, a white button down with rolled up sleeves and jeans; there's only so much levity with how to dress for a date to a movie with the girl you've liked since you were in the sixth grade. The anxiety that filled up inside of him within five minutes of just watching and waiting for time to go by was unreal. _Is this not enough? Is she gonna wear a dress while I'm stuck looking too casual? Will I embarrass her if I don't wear the right thing?_ He was drumming on his thighs, looking around his empty apartment. His parents were busy managing a campaign event for the Mister because of the political re-election coming up in 2016; for that alone, Charlie only saw his father on mornings and weekends, but it didn't bother him much. Usually, this is the time of the night that they bother him about whatever girl he's seeing, but ever since he even said a word about Riley back in April, they haven't let him hear the end of it - especially his mother. ( _"So, Charlie, you've been spending a lot of time with Riley haven't you? Why don't you invite her over for dinner! Ask her what she likes and I'll whip it up instantly. C'mon, baby boy, just let me meet her okay?")_ But soon enough, he would've shushed her out of his room. Now, his mother wasn't there to console or distract him.

The walk to her apartment complex was full of fast heartbeats and smiling to himself almost uncontrollably as he realized that he was picking up Riley Matthews for a date. Every time he thought of her, some kind of wave of an anxious joy overfilled him - a heavy sigh to catch his breath, a smile he had to bite on to prevent from looking like a fool, shaking his head in disbelief.

As the door opened in front of him, he slowly picked up his head - amazed at the girl before him. She was standing right in front of him, but he felt like he was in an art museum - at least he acted like it. Riley smiled at him with a closed mouth, her eyes full of absolute gleam. She turned around to call out to her mother, but he couldn't hear her, only watch. Every part of her moved like long hair underwater; every movement - so collected and so swift - individually dividing the thin line between masterpiece and reality. He stumbled to step back as she closed the door. Inevitably nervous around her, he had to find a common ground so that he wasn't some quiet bastard the whole time they were together. Now, they blurred the line between Sundays and Tuesdays, between locker numbers and apartment addresses, and now, between friends and whatever the Hell comes after that for high school kids that find the need to validate whoever the Hell they are by whichever the Hell they feel obligated to do.

He took in a deep breath, wanting to speak, but he couldn't. He was completely unable to keep his eyes off of her; her smile made him nervous - then again, the fact that he was completely silent didn't help either. "You look beautiful, Riley," he managed to speak without stumbling, but as she looked into his eyes, he felt heat rising into his face and immediately looked down. "I'm sorry I could've, you know, dressed up more, but it'll be dark by the time we get there so I don't have to look noticeably disheveled."

A nervous laughter from Riley erupted quickly when he spoke. In embarrassment, she covered her mouth like a reflex; he didn't stop smiling at her with his warm, calming smirk that curved his eyes into teardrops of light and gleam. "Thank you, Charlie," she quietly respired, "but you don't look horrible - not at all - you look amazing." She was captivated by him, but she couldn't let it become too obvious. She honestly didn't know where she was going with the last few weeks; all she knew was that Charlie made her feel something else. Everything scared her, yet excited her at the same time; all she knew was that she's been on dates - well, a date - before; nothing had to change - then again, if she wanted something to change, all she could do is hope for the best.

"So have you seen Guys and Dolls before?" Charlie asked while his hands stayed anxious in his pocket, looking at her as the summer wind blew her hair behind her, her face lighting up the atmosphere for him. "My grandpa and my dad are Sinatra-freaks, so it's always been part of my family. We'd watch this on my mother's birthday when I was younger. It's really good, you know. Well, if you're into old and cheesy jazz musicals." Charlie looked back up from the sidewalk; Riley has her eyebrows raised with a slight smile that was most likely because of how flustered he sounded. He really wasn't selling himself too well.

"No, actually," Riley began softly. "I've never really seen the old classics. My grandparents always wanted to be hip, well, so do my parents. I'm excited, though," she smiled at him kindly. "I've never really been to a drive in. They remind me of Grease, you know, with the cool corvettes and whatever." Her voice trailed off. Yes, Riley was a movie musical nerd; no, Charlie wasn't ready for that side of her yet. And that's when they both realized.

They didn't have a car.

 _Shit,_ Charlie repeated over and over and over silently. How the damn Hell did he expect them to enjoy the movie without a car? Or even chairs? Crisis mode was in full blast, and he had to start thinking on his feet to redeem himself. "Look, why don't we stop by the shop; I think my grandpa has some chairs and blankets in the back room." He heard his grandpa's confusion and tease already in his head, _So, you didn't want my advice, huh? You had it all figured out, right? Smooth move, nummy_. A small disappointment fell over him, and he looked up at Riley sheepishly.

"Well, we can't just stand here! If you want me to _really_ understand your weird love for someone who's been dead since the 90's, we better get on the move!" Riley jokingly nudged his arm and turned around to go the other direction. She felt some sense of shame from him, and didn't want him putting himself down for such a small mistake - besides, a date is a date as long as you spend time together.

"Sinatra's timeless, Riley, but you're right," he laughed to himself while following her.

Just like every other day they had spent together, all his nerves fell down and suppressed, at least, temporarily. As they quietly walked up to the village, a haunting reminder fell on him, and he almost felt sick to his stomach. Grandpa Gardner had gone shit-crazy when his wife passed away. He was a self-diagnosed "collector", but the family prefers the term "closeted hoarder." For Christ's sake, he literally continued a bookstore that collects books. The hoarding wasn't necessarily the embarrassing part, but all of this could've easily been prevented if he just calmed down for two seconds throughout the day; so, now was excuse-crunch-time.

"Look," he began with an apprehension in his voice, "I'm gonna be honest with you." He stole the back-keys out of the desk drawer and began to lead her to the garage. "My grandpa has gone a little," _insane? delusion? hoarder-esque?_ "...overboard over the last few years. He just has some weird thing with thrift outlets and kind of struggles letting things go." That wasn't enough justification because he knew damn well what was in the backroom. As he opened the door, he began to cringe slightly; he could already smell the wood and dust as the heat immediately sporadically expanded out of confinement. Turning on the light was like walking a plank for him because as soon as he did, they were both faced with a room filled five-feet all around with anything under the sun: old posters, vintage car models, religious statues, documents of whatever-the-Hell he pleased, old movies and television tapes, broken machines and cassette tapes, old coats, and a plethora of more generally random shit; but most importantly, boxes and boxes filled with every picture the old man had ever taken till he got a smartphone three months ago. There was a small trail that lead to the middle of the room; the only open space that could comfortably hold about four people. Reluctantly, he turned to Riley whose eyes were wide with shock. In shame, he sighed, "You don't have to help look, but if you lose me, just shout Marco and hopefully you'll hear my Polo." He joked trying to hide the embarrassment, but she was already managing through the left side of junk.

Riley's fingers glided over the stacks and shelves completely filled with absolute thrift. The dust collected on her fingers, but she didn't mind; she always had a secret affinity for the feeling of whatever the Hell "vintage" was as well as the musty smell that came with any old garage. As she slowly continued, Riley gasped to herself and stopped moving. "Is this one of those real-old record player, Charlie?" Her voice was a light whisper. She had dreamed about getting herself a record player since the last one she had only lasted about two weeks before her own grandfather took it back because he missed it so much. The new ones were nothing compared to the originals made in the 60's. Even if she only had one record from her dad, the idea of having one herself was exciting enough.

Charlie was shuffling through piles and piles of what he considered absolute shit, but when he heard her, he stopped immediately and picked himself up and over next to her. "Yeah, it is actually," he was smiling as small memories from childhood filled his mind. Christmas with the cousins at his grandparents' house where the only music allowed to play was whatever records the adults chose. Then again, most of those memories were for another day. "It was my grandparents, but I guess he didn't find too much use for it in the last few years-"

"Does it still work?"

Charlie heard the anxious hope rise in her voice, and only smiled as he searched the shithole for what he wanted. There was so much junk all around them that it was almost foolish to even try to look for anything, but that's when he saw it. Across the room, he grabbed a stack of vinyls lying in dirt and must corners next to some Rat Fink poster. Dusting one off, he handed it to Riley, _Ultimate Sinatra_. "You wanted to know why he still matters? Well, I guess you can only be the judge now."

A little taken back, she raised her eyebrows, but Charlie reassured her with a nod and a shrug of his shoulders. She lightly blew off some of the dust from the player before taking whatever was in his hands. Lifting the dial as she carefully put the record in its place, he plugged it in as a scratchy emptiness filled the space between them. "I'll play a good one, okay?" And it began:

" _Fly me to the moon…"_

Riley straightened up excitedly, of course she knew this song - a classic of all classics. She hummed along lightly as the player slightly shook from the volume. "I can't believe how beautiful it sounds," she spoke in a low whisper, "if our phones could sound like this, I think I'd consider listening to jazz a bit more often. But just a bit." She looked at Charlie teasingly then laughed. It was so easy to joke with him because he wouldn't fight back, only blush and look down, trying to find some kind of answer for himself. Staring at him kindly, she took a deep breath as the music played, "Tell me a story, Charlie."

Well that was new. They both knew that every time he tried to tell a story, he'd get lost or anxious and just stop - promising that he'd figure it out sometime else, & subsequently, he'd make her tell another story to fill the awkward void. Before he could say anything, he looked up at the girl. He saw the world in her eyes as the blinking light of the garage reflected the dust in the air and casted speckles of shadows on her skin. Riley had a power about everything she did; a complex that was undefinable. Anything, whether it be in word or action, was compelling and overtaking. She had no clue she had this enmity about her, but everyone and anyone who has known or has just observed her can feel her energy from miles away. She was magnetic. If she didn't realize it, he most definitely did. Every time he was around her, he felt every one of her movements, he noticed the gravitas of each word she spoke, and when they'd leave, he'd think of a thousand things he wanted to say to her or ask her just to get her to provoke thought again. She compelled him to do more and be better than he was; something in her presence just screamed the idea that there is no better idea than finding the will to fulfill a lifetime.

Her power and his charm created a night spent replaying the same old record over and over again because if they talked too much over a certain song, Riley would ask if they could replay it. By the end of the night, Charlie had told more stories than he ever had in his lifetime, and Riley realized that this was certainly no subway ride. Lucas never slow danced with her to some old-singer with a voice like velvet. Everything was new. Nothing was spoiled.

* * *

The next morning, Riley woke up to:

Peaches:

 **11:48 PM:** you're def already asleep but expect an early knocking at the Bay Window

 **11:49 PM:** Wait mom wants to take me out to lunch

 **11:49 PM:** She doesn't think we're spending enough time together. Whatever that means.

 **11:50 PM:** Change the knock from early to late afternoon. I'm sure we have lots to talk about! Goodnight Honey. Can't wait to hear all about your date!

 _MISSED CALL - PEACHES 12:03 AM_

 **12:05 AM:** WAIT DID YOU GO ON A DATE?

 **12:05 AM:** HONEY I DEMAND YOU REPLY TO MY TEXTS.

 **12:05 AM:** YOU DON'T GET TO BLINDSIDE ME. I'M THE SNEAKY ONE. YOU TELL MY EVERYTHING BC YOU'RE RILEY AND IT'S IN YOUR NATURE

 **12:05 AM:** RILES TEXT ME BACK

 **12:06 AM:** RING POWER!

 **12:08 AM:** I should've known this…. nothing's innocent when it comes from that red dress.

 **12:20 AM:** Alright, I'm REALLY going to bed now. Night Honey. We have a LOT to talk about.

She laughed before tossing her phone to the other side of her bed. The sun was rising as its warmth fell translucent to the curtains of the bay window. Her hair was tangled and the make up under her eyes smeared down an inch from where it began. A warmth filled inside of her; some kind of comfort that felt like constant butterflies shook up her body. Her goal for today was to just not think about anything until Maya came over; when it comes to Riley, overthinking is a chronic curse, and if she thought too much about last night, she would read too far into everything that happened. For now, she was just happy, she was simply full of joy, and she wanted to get a book and relax.

Wednesdays at Gardner were never crowded. The only noise came from her turning the pages, and Mr. Gardner calling his family to tell them he "loves them to the moon and stars" and "was just checking up on them." She knew exactly where Charlie got all his sentimental value. Occasionally, the two shared in light conversation, but now that he knew her ambiguous place in his grandson's life, she's been trying to avoid conversation; usually, it went a lot like so: _"He's a real looker, isn't he?"_ "What?" _"Well, my ol' boy right there! Look at him. Strong, too. A little flare for the dramatics, but that's just in his blood."_ "Yeah, I think it's swee-" _"ANY girl would be lucky to have him, right?"_ "Well, I suppose so, yes, of cour-" " _I have to go check the calendar."_

It was better to just run in and hide.

Lucky for her, though, he wasn't at the counter, so hiding was really her only option. She signed in to the front desk, where the names of the last week read:

 **JULY 08:** Riley Matthews || Jannette O'Malley || Charlie Gardner

 **JULY 09:** Kenny Hatford || Allen Arluck || Riley Matthews - Then, scribbled right under her name, - Charlie Gardner"

 **JULY 10:** CLOSED

 _JULY 11:_ \- He forgot to put out the book that day.

 **JULY 12:** Charlie Gardner - He closed early that day; he was so excited about hearing that Charlie landed a date with the girl he never shut up about that he went home just to sit with his son and daughter-in-law.

She smiled lightly. Today was the 13th, and she signed in appropriately because she knew that order made Grandpa Gardner happy, even if he struggled to have any himself.

Riley hid behind the shelves and stacks so that she could sit comfortable in a corner where the sun was all the light she needed. Her first first-date was a subway ride filled with the sounds of homeless people hacking and an awkward kiss with someone who ended up falling in love with her best friend. Maya told Riley about movie dates - the wretchedly awkward silence that filled the room with an uncomfortable tension, but it seemed appropriate for a freshman. She never expected to be slow dancing to a grandfather's favorite music - not in a million years. Maybe the unpredictability of Charlie Gardner was her favorite thing - well, that and his crooked smile.

As she tucked herself into a corner, reading someone's anonymous journal from the 40's that was probably picked up from some retirement home, she heard a bell at the door ring.

"So, how was it?"

"Gramps, be quiet."

"Don't worry, she's not here. I didn't see her come in today." Either Gardner was a love guru to a series of young boys or they were blatantly talking about her.

"I'll tell you all the details with your favorite melodramatic cliches after I put this load away. I have to hit the M-N's today."

Riley looked up from where she was resting. P-Q. Perfect. Who the Hell goes to Q in the first place?

As she heard footsteps draw closer, she heard him whistle one of the songs from last night - Summer Wind. An insatiable song at least, that's what he likes to call it. A small smile fell on her face as she heard him - thinking of his stupid smile and stupid voice last night only made her feel like a total fool. What was worse was that she just wanted to hum with him. He was right, Sinatra's unforgettable, and so was her night with him. As much as she wanted to act cool and say she wasn't thinking of him - she was. She remembered it all so well, and all she wanted to do was watch it in her head again.

As she rolled her eyes in self-embarrassment, she heard the footsteps come closer and louder. Shaking her head, she convinced herself that there was no way the same thing that happened in June could be happening again. Sure, Maya fantasized about time warps and government conspiracy theories when they were bored, but they couldn't be real. Riley's life was so completely turned upside down that she was reliving it.

"I thought I heard you humming from the aisle over," Charlie came in. His hair messy, his voice scratchy, and his eyes kinder than ever before. His crooked smile was killing her in the best way possible, but that could've been a bit of complete humiliation that she was actually humming along because her damn subconscious couldn't get him off her mind.

"Charlie, hi," she smiled back at him. All possible redness flushed into her face almost immediately. She expected not to see him for a couple days so that she could think and not think all at the same time. But he was here now. In front of her. With his eyes still so full of that same goddamn hope a gleam she couldn't ever stop thinking about. And it wasn't too horrible to have him so close in company. The only thing was this time, there was no tension, there was no awkward silence, and there certainly were no books sprawled across the ground. Only the two of them, sharing in a close proximity that no longer felt foreign.

* * *

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